


in the shape of a star

by mimiplaysgames



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Healing, Introspection, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, let Aqua be human, one chapter for every point of a wayfinder, twelve years apart would not fix their communication issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2019-11-27 17:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimiplaysgames/pseuds/mimiplaysgames
Summary: They have their home, and they have each other. What they need to build a new life is to find proper footing. But some things are still too difficult to talk about.





	1. cheers

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Lorelei, who put in the time to research lisianthus, which are flowers that look similar to the ones found on Eraqus’ wreath. Also to Lyssa for being my emotional support animal. I wouldn’t have carried on without your support and your listening ear, so thank you for your patience and understanding. <333 And OF COURSE to Eli who was my beta for this. Your spouts of genius were needed to make this happen and I’m so grateful. Thank you.

Aqua knew (rationally) she was safe in her bedroom.

The lamp on her bedside table and the ceiling light were both on. Her closet was closed shut. A white sheet draped over the vanity mirror - so her reflection couldn’t bother her. She may not be able to see the shadows under her furniture, but she did frequent checks under bed and dresser to make sure nothing was stirring. And after the hours ticked by she understood that there was, truly, nothing. Now she questioned whether she was relieved or disappointed.

By this point, her patience had sunk to her feet and there was no cure for the stillness.

Thankfully, she heard a soft tap on her window. Several more followed, raindrops trickling down her window panes. Judging by how sparse they were, it was misty outside. 

If anyone had seen her, they’d notice how desperately she tore the window open, breathing the scent of a fresh mountain morning in the middle of the night. The fog was thin, but enough to blanket the castle and block the stars from view. Her arm reached out into the sky, catching droplets. They were so cold, they tickled as they splattered upon impact.

The Realm of Darkness did its best work in making her numb to all sensation, usually leaving just bare minimum to trick her into enduring for just a little longer, and yet taking it all away so that she wouldn’t go crazy.

Feeling the mist was a welcome sign that for one, she was alive, and two, she was free. And she already knew this, too. They had all been back in the Land of Departure for weeks now. Yet she needed the reminder. The feel of the rain on her skin was so foreign now, it was almost new.

She decided it was a good excuse as any not to keep this to herself.

Her boys did her the favor every night of turning the lights on in the castle in the most common areas. Ventus would make laps to power them, Terra took the duty very late at night to turn them off once everyone else was asleep. The halls, the intersecting ones included, illuminated so brightly, the only shadow she could see was her own.

Voices trailed off from Ventus’ room. Laughter, pleads. What sounded like jokes. His door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in.

It wasn’t a surprise that Terra was shoving Ventus down into the pillow, using his face like a lever.

“Ven, have mercy. I’m tired.” Terra plopped into a lounge chair, resting his foot at the edge of the bed.

Ventus had the decency not to spring back up, but he rolled over to lean closer, finding reasons to keep going. “But did you think about what I said? About Merlin?”

“Yes.” There was no effort in hiding his amused annoyance.

“And?”

Terra didn’t face her, but she felt his eyes rolling and his smile pulling. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Oh, come on.” He squirmed, begging Terra to stay when he stood up.

“You could make it easier for yourself-”

“I hate tea.” It was usually the suggestion: drink herbal tea to calm the nerves.

Terra snorted. “Then count sheep.” He was closer to the door, his voice louder.

“That sounds really boring.”

“That’s the point.”

It was then that Ventus’ face fell, knowing his night was cut short. Aqua stood back as she felt Terra approach, not wanting to see him flick the lights off. She heard a gentle, yet firm “good night, Ven” before his face made its way through the doorway.

A benign smile graced it. Terra always carried himself with a gentleness that betrayed how intimidating others thought of him. Even when he joked around. “Do you need to be tucked in, too?”

“A six-year-old me would’ve loved that.” She pressed her ear to the door. Ventus rustled in his sheets, sighing. He hasn’t improved much in getting rest, and they were out of options. “I wish I could cast Sleep on him.”

“Master Aqua wants to give her apprentice a magic addiction.” It earned him a swat on his chest. “He’ll be fine. Hearing us talk will calm him down.”

Because it told him they would still be around when he closed his eyes.

When they first came back, they were happy to stay up and talk the night away, not stopping until their bodies gave up. Soon after, when the lack of rest affected them too much, Terra and Aqua took turns staying by his side until he slept, just so he was sure he wasn’t going to be left alone.

“Do you think maybe we should get him a companion?” she asked.

“Like a pet?” He eyed her, waiting for her response first before giving his input. Normally, deciding changes in the castle was up to Master Eraqus. They kept forgetting they were its keepers now.

“Maybe not.” The Master usually refused to bring in an animal, and it felt like betraying his memory to suggest such a thing.

“He’s strong. He just needs time.” Terra’s voice softened, steadfast.

That was always the assumption. Time was a special kind of magic that would heal them. That would make sleep come. That would turn them back into the Keyblade wielders they all wanted to be. But they were still waiting.

“He checks in on us in the middle of the night to make sure we’re still here,” she said.

Terra let out a long, exasperated sigh. His eyes said it all. _Seriously?_

She nodded. _Seriously._

“We’ll figure it out,” he assured her. “What about you?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” he said with all the benefit of the doubt that he could give her and yet with the knowledge she was lying.

It must have been how she pursed her lips that gave her away. “It’s nothing. I just… I can’t sleep, either.”

He chuckled breathily, pinching his tired eyes. “I appreciate that you don’t beat around the bush. Come on, let’s take care of you.”

When they entered his room, his first order of business was to fling a random sheet that he didn’t bother to fold over his mirror. Then he kicked a pile of clothes that were in the way into his bathroom, where the lights were off, and closed that door.

“My room is now darkness-proof,” he teased.

A steaming pot of tea he brewed for himself waited for him on his desk, right alongside another heap of clothes, open books stacked on top of each other, several pens that he kept piling for every time he lost one, and deodorant. He poured into his mug and handed it to her.

“One of these days, I’ll make you regret saying that.” Apple, with a hefty sum of lavender and chamomile, and a small dash of mint; no sugar. She may be the better cook, but Terra always made the best teas.

“Please, you’re too nice to me to try.” He took his mug out of her hands and drank a huge gulp like he needed it just as much.

She swatted at him. He caught her wrist. Terra engulfed her hand in his while he kept the other stretched across her forearm in an effort to warm her up.

“Why are you so cold?”

She stopped herself from laughing, but it still escaped through her nose. It was the arm she let outside. “It’s raining.”

He understood. His large hands caressed the cold away, and he didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t have to explain herself either.

Twelve years too long with all feeling stolen from them gave them a perspective they only shared with each other. The smallest things imaginable – a bright color, the smell of coffee, the taste of toothpaste – was a new adventure that for anyone else was negligible.

Much like the feel of his calloused palms on her skin. It gave her goosebumps, and he lingered even when she wasn’t cold anymore.

Aqua moved closer to slip an arm around his waist. Being enveloped in his warmth suddenly made it okay for her to breathe. The pressure on her back as he pulled her in, the weight of his head on hers – these were the smaller things they took for granted beforehand, when friendship made these gestures seem trivial. And they were still friends - maybe something more, but the sorts of conversations she’d have to start to get them there always made her wonder if it was too much too fast. If she was even ready for it.

They hadn’t even started a routine for Keyblade training yet. They hadn’t talked about what they were going to do with their lives, or whether to consider Terra a Master or how she was going to teach Ventus. Nothing was normal anymore, and maintaining the friendship that she missed so much was the closest thing.

She was grateful there were at least some things that could be done instead of saying anything. Like holding him. They could wait in between friendship and something else and enjoy it anyway.

In this ambiguity, they could pretend the nights weren’t dark and nothing ever happened. And she hoped disillusion would be gentle when it throttled them back into reality.

“I’m waiting,” he said. She felt his smile in her hair.

“For what?”

“For you to tell me what it is you need.”

She scoffed, holding him tighter. If only her bed was this comfortable. “I want to sleep here.” She pulled away from him, but not far enough so that she was still in his arms. “I couldn’t ask for that, though. I can’t let you turn the lights off.”

Terra replied the only way Terra would – with an encouraging smirk. “I don’t mind.”

“No, really, it sucks to sleep with them on.”

“I highly doubt my lamp will burn through my eye sockets.” His smile didn’t change but it was getting obnoxious and she realized she really hated to need.

“Terra-”

“Aqua.” The way he said it warned her he was ready and willing to drag this for as long as she was. Then he softened. “I want you to stay.”

He only let her go to lazily arrange his sheets before getting into the bed and making space for her. Aqua considered for a second if she could tolerate the darkness for his sake, but the nausea in her stomach wouldn’t allow it.

“Aqua,” he repeated, patting the mattress.

Raindrops patted on his window, but they were so soft they were quiet against the sound of his comforter wrapping around her. His warmth was better than all of the layered blankets she could pile. She buried her face in his shirt, focusing on the scent of sandalwood and using his pecs to keep her eyes away from the light.

He rubbed her back, and she lessened the tension in her shoulders. This wasn’t the first time she slept on his bed. They used to slip into each other’s rooms to finish conversations on their pillows when the Master barked at them to go to bed. Holding him this close was certainly a milestone.

It was probably the first time she relaxed today. She wasn’t sure; she wasn’t the best at keeping herself in check.

But she braced herself when his door opened.

And Ventus threw himself so hard onto the bed that Terra groaned when he buckled under the weight.

“Thought you could lose me so easily?” The grin on Ventus’ face was impish.

She wanted to throw him out for interrupting, but she couldn’t bring herself to reject him.

“Ven,” Terra snapped, angrier than she was to have the moment disturbed. “I can’t believe this.”

“Your bed is the biggest for a sleepover.” Ventus scooched over to Terra’s other side, wiggling for room.

It disappointed her to feel Terra roll over to lie on his back, but he pulled her by the waist to keep her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself smile at Ventus who was making himself comfortable on Terra’s bicep.

“Ven, you’re always wanted,” she said, knowing who would be the one to get annoyed.

“I know I am.” Something about the way he said it told her that he probably knew what was going on between his best friends.

“Shut up and sleep.” Terra poked at him, not caring to look where he was aiming.

Ventus snickered as he swatted away.

Terra grunted to all of his incessant requests for conversation.

No one bothered to ask why all the lights were on.

Aqua didn’t remember the last word she heard.

She woke up alone.

The bed was cold in the areas she didn’t occupy. She was carefully tucked in, and they had the courtesy to leave the lights on while they let her catch up on sleep, all of which faded under the sun shining through the window.

 

* * *

 

The second best thing Aqua looked forward to since leaving the Realm of Darkness was being able to eat again. Spices, burnt charcoal, savory flavors – all were perfectly good reasons to wake up every day. She even went out of her way to find recipes just to keep herself in the kitchen.

Today’s dinner was special: red pork stew boiled with corn, left to simmer for several hours in a mixture made of chili peppers.

She rubbed her arms against the blue silk robe she was wearing as she wallowed in the aroma, the fabric like a soft cloud against her skin.

There was at least three more hours before it finished. Smelling it was so intoxicating, she didn’t bother to react when she heard footsteps passing through the dining room, making their way to the stove stop. Terra found his side next to her, moaning as he inhaled the aroma.

“Every time I think none of this is real,” he sighed, “food slaps me right back.”

Aqua hummed in agreement. “It’s the Master’s favorite. I thought we could have this to commemorate him.”

He smiled morosely. “That’s a good idea. Are you making something sweet for him, too?”

“That’s hard considering…” She gestured to him. Terra was never a fan of the dessert.

“Lemon sherbet’s not bad.” Typical Terra. Only tolerated fruits that were sour. “Don’t add sugar, please.”

His smile grew in sincerity, his mind caught in subjects that were more pleasant. He was well-rested today, his eyes calm as though he didn’t have nightmares these past couple of days. If there hadn’t been a Keyblade War, or a decade of possession, this was what Terra looked like on a normal day.

Maybe he would be the foundation they needed to keep grounded for a day like today.

She started to disrobe herself. Her boys were used to seeing her dressed this way, or sometimes in a simple shirt and trousers. Hair brushed messily, she was sure. It was the easiest to wear without a mirror.

But she made an effort this morning to dress more appropriately. Under her robe, she wore her usual uniform that represented her status as a student and Master of the academy where she grew up.

“Can you tell me if I look okay?” she asked, fiddling with her straps and checking to make sure her corset was still straight.

Terra first cleared his throat. Which was, also, typical. He was usually defiant when it came to prompts over her looks. Not because he thought it was petty, but because it flustered him. If only he was more direct about it.

He nodded in approval, though with a twist to his smile and a twitch to his left eyebrow.

“I saw that,” she said. “Spill it, mister.”

“You look like you dressed without a mirror.” He spoke with compassion and patience.

They all knew she couldn’t bring herself see her reflection, and yet pointing it out was uncomfortable. She messed with her straps again, blind to what she really needed to do, but going ahead with it anyway because it was easier than responding to him.

Terra approached her and adjusted her straps in silence, as if keeping quiet about it helped to hide the embarrassment. He straightened out her sleeves, careful not to squeeze her too much. He looked her over and pulled on one of her hip sashes, measuring them with his hands until he convinced himself they were even.

Standing back up, his gaze went over her head. With one hand on her chin – it was impressive how much he stayed warm - he brushed through her hair with the other. She had forgotten how he looked when he was focused. It wasn’t as intense as it would be if they were sparring, but he always let himself get carried away with the same integrity of his furrowed brows as he moved strands that were out of place. When it was this sunny, his dark eyes looked bluer.

Usually, being caught staring at him like this would force her to find excuses to look elsewhere and pretend she was minding her own business. But this time it was comfortable. He became absent-minded in what he was doing and studied her eyes, too. He smiled.

A door closed, and it broke their contact. Terra whispered that she looked good now as Ventus made his way into the kitchen, carrying a large bouquet of wildflowers in one arm and a fistful of wire.

The pause before he spoke was too conspicuous, like he was about to ask what the hell they were doing.

“You guys aren’t the only ones living in this castle,” he reminded them. Terra shot him a look, but he was proud of what he said. “Is there going to be dessert, too?”

“Lemon sherbet,” Aqua said.

He looked as though she just fed him trash and expected him to be okay with it. “You did that for Terra, didn’t you? You’re such an enabler.”

He placed the flowers and the wire onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, and she was grateful to have something to change the subject. The flowers varied through gentle whites and purples, and were soft to the touch. Their fragrance was delicate and faint. They were completely unlike the ones in the Realm of Darkness, which would disappear the moment she approached them.

“They’re beautiful,” she said.

“They’re called _lisianthus_ ,” Ventus said. “I read in a book that they represent _appreciation_.”

Terra pulled out a butcher’s knife to shorten the stems. “They’re perfect.”

“Thanks.” Ventus trailed off, averting his gaze between the wire he was curving and Aqua, who was twisting it around the flowers. What he was going to ask was obvious. “You sure about this?”

“We’ve already talked about it,” was her answer.

Which was an understatement. They had gone in circles discussing it.

She fought for twelve years, and she was tired.

There was nothing in the castle that could harm her, even on the nights when she was terrified she’d be swallowed back to the Realm of Darkness.

There wasn’t a point or a reason or a meaning to the fear, and the days she spent locked in her head were taken away from her forever. She wanted them back.

It wasn’t necessary for her to rely on the Keyblade. She did summon it – once – on poor Ventus. He didn’t mean to sneak up on her like that.

It also wasn’t fair to Terra or Ventus, who deserved to memorialize their father figure, too. The longer she kept the Master’s Defender, the longer she was stalling.

And she wanted to cook all of her favorite recipes. She was still re-discovering rooms in the castle she had forgotten about. She wanted to smell perfumes, wake up every morning to her friends’ voices, remember what it was like when they were companions and nothing else. No fighting. No darkness.

At least until she was ready to carry the burden of the Keyblade again.

“We still haven’t found your Keyblade,” Ventus said.

That was another thing. She left Stormfall with Xehanort, and she was in no hurry to follow his trail. Especially with Terra. It was too soon to replay the nightmare that caused all of this to begin with. For once it would be good to build a life where Xehanort had no existence or relevance.

“I don’t really need it.” She tried to sound confident.

“But what if something happens?”

Terra placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen, the castle is safe.” It didn’t prove to be entirely convincing, and before he was interrupted, he continued, “she has us.”

It was valiant of Terra to support her, but he did so out of obligation. He had already voiced his own concerns, and was the one most determined to find Stormfall. Because he owed it to her, he had said.

She’d rather he support her by staying safe at home, not thinking about or doing anything related to Xehanort.

What she hated the most, though, was seeing Ventus worry this much. She ran her palm through his hair, offering a lazy smile. “It would be in your best interest if you remember that I can throw a mean kick.”

He fiddled with the wire, carefully choosing which flower he was going to pick at next. When the both of them pressured him, he eventually gave in without much leverage of his own. So he joined them on making the wreath.

 

* * *

 

The sunset was both welcoming and discomforting, as though it was preparing to sleep alongside the Keyblade she was letting go of. In an imaginary world, Eraqus rode it far away, giving them one last gesture of good will. But at least the sun would come back home.

They chose a spot close by the entrance to the castle, on a cliff side where it opened to the mountain ranges beyond. Eraqus was usually the first one to greet each of them, and while they were trained to wake up fresh when the sun rose, they never understood the secret behind his love for mornings. Here, he would be the first to welcome them back. It would also make it easy for them to say hello every time they’d have to leave.

The Defender stood in her hands, and she hesitated. Twelve years was a lot to just leave on the ground.

“Does anyone remember the words?” she asked. Maybe if they treated it like a proper funeral, it would make the closure more real, and she’d be willing to unwind her fingers.

Ventus kept a hard gaze at the wreath he was holding, which was thick and vibrant. A proper crown for someone who deserved to wear it.

Terra cleared his throat, and pursed his lips as he drifted away in thought. He let his mouth hang before he began:

“ _He awoke the day he was gifted._  
The kingdom shone brighter  
Under his servitude,  
So long as his heart never faltered.  
On this day, his star expired.  
When the sky goes dark,  
He returns. To light,  
To rest.”

It was a pleasant delivery, a nail on the coffin. But being ready to start a new life didn’t make it any easier to tear from an old one. Aqua gripped the hilt harder, bringing it to her forehead.

“I wouldn’t have survived without you,” she said to it, and fought the tears.

Fruitlessly. She snapped back to reality when Terra rubbed her shoulder.

“He was so proud of you,” he said softly, certain it was the truth. And of course it would be, considering he spent the last decade protecting his heart and that of the Master. Whenever he talked about it, he always did so calmly, like he found solace with the Master’s heart in the middle of his despair.

She smiled and the remaining tears fell to her lips since they had nowhere else to go. She wanted to say that the Master was proud of him too, but didn’t want to come across as assuming. If there was a sense of fulfillment, Terra would already know.

With one final grip, like a good-bye hug, she struck the ground with the tip of the Keyblade, pushing downward to give it just enough security. It still took her time to unwrap her fingers, but with each stroke of movement, she felt the energy disappear. It became a part of her as much as she had given herself to it, blending their energies together in a union. A Keyblade was an extension of their hearts, so there was no denying this one took from hers.

And once she finally let go, that piece of her was gone with the rest. She was still Master Aqua without it and without the Realm of Darkness. But she expected it to make her feel better.

Ventus settled the wreath on the hilt with the gentleness of someone holding a priceless treasure. “I wish we could give him something more meaningful.”

“Ven, the wreath is wonderful,” she said, sniffling. “What more do you want?”

“I don’t know. I just want him to stay.”

That was the funny thing about loss. It crept on them even when they understood well enough that it would stay with them forever. For Terra, when he accidentally served an extra plate of breakfast. For Aqua, when she had a question. For Ventus, when he wasn’t ordered to stay still.

“You don’t think he’s still connected to us?” Terra said. “I mean, you can’t walk an inch of the castle without remembering him.”

It was genius, and he didn’t know it.

“Our Wayfinders,” she said, pulling hers from her hip. A blue as deep as her will and faith.

“Give them to the Master?” Terra pulled his out of his pocket, dusting it off even though he held it every day. A fiery orange that paled in comparison to his bravery. “They did bring us back together. I actually like to think of them as a lucky charm.”

Ventus’ was a vibrant green that mixed his youth and reliability. “Aqua was the glue that held us.”

“You make that sound so sappy,” she said.

“Because it is.”

“… Should I have made one for the Master?”

“Well,” Terra said, “I think our Wayfinders were there when we needed them. When we were breaking apart.”

“Maybe that’s the point.” Ventus held his out with both hands like he was honoring it. “We won’t break apart again, even when we’re separated. So we don’t really need them anymore.”

It was a beautiful thought, and her eyes were wet again. Though she was the only one near tears; she saw her boys slowly lift their spirits like they were finally making strides from all the tears they had shed when they first arrived to an empty castle.

“They could light our way home,” Ventus said.

“The Master was home,” she said. Perfect.

“And they’ll help us find him again,” Terra said, “when it’s our turn.”

When it was their turn, and they needed a guide to wherever they would head next.

That was the agreement. Hold the Wayfinders over their hearts first, before laying them on the wreath. It made the memorial look… complete. Stars to guide them home. Perhaps this was how closure was supposed to feel - released. Finished. Like the end of a good story.

“I think you’re better at being strict,” Terra said to her as they walked back to the castle.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Someone’s gotta lay down the law when we have students of our own. The castle also needs to survive… but I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of job.” He crossed his arms and made himself look taller, imitating the Master. “ _Push the darkness down – give it no quarter in your heart_.”

His voice was shaky and his intimidation was false, as though he was terrified of scaring the imaginary person he was talking to.

She snorted. “It sounds so weird coming out of your mouth.”

“But you can totally pull it off.”

Their laughter was contagious, much like how the Master would have preferred it. It was comforting to the point that it took them a while to notice that Ventus wasn’t even near them.

In fact, he staggered far behind, talking to himself. No, he was talking to _something_.

It wasn’t until Terra called him over that she saw what he was carrying. A large striped, gray cat, which was completely rare to see walking around in the mountains.

And it wore a cape and a pink coin purse around its neck… not the sight she was expecting right after a funeral.

“You’re picking up strays, now?” Terra rested his hands on his hips.

“My name is Chirithy,” the cat said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She didn’t know what was more shocking. Though if she had to decide, it would be the fact that its voice was so high-pitched, it squeaked like two rubbery gears. And that face – so _round_ and unassuming.

“It talks?” At this point, Terra dropped his hands.

“Isn’t he great?” Ventus nuzzled the animal(?) and it reciprocated, bouncing in his arms like it had just been reunited with its master after a long day apart. It even included a rolling giggle, like it was being tickled.

“Yeah, but what is he?”

“I am Chirithy,” was the answer.

She had no idea what a Chirithy was, and from the look Terra gave her, he was hoping for an answer, too.

“Chirithy…” she said out loud, unsure where to start. “Ven, you’re not curious why it talks or where it comes from?”

He shrugged. “He’s cool. I like him.”

“I was displaced from the war,” Chirithy said.

The fact that it had the sentience to even understand there was a recent Keyblade War was astounding. Did its world disappear? Did that mean that they had to help it?

“Chur… Chirrra…” Terra started.

It was exactly like when they met Ventus for the first time. It took a while for Terra to pronounce the name, and until he got it down, ‘Ven’ was the nickname given. And it stuck anyway.

“He’s really cute,” Aqua said, noticing just how attached Ventus was. It took two minutes and he was already in love. She wondered how futile it was to discuss whether keeping an animal in such a sacred building would be a bad idea.

Terra sighed, giving up. He pet the cat on the head, deciding that the name ‘Cheers’ was good enough.

“It’s not that hard to pronounce,” Ventus said.

“It’s okay. I know he’s the smart one,” Chirithy said. Dryly.

Aqua didn’t quite know whether to interpret that as sarcasm, or to question how Chirithy could come to such a quick conclusion over a stranger. Or why a cat-thing was willing to judge so harshly.

Ventus’ smile widened, his excitement nearly blinding her. “Can we keep him?”

“Ven, we don’t know what it really is,” she said. Honestly, it was too adorable _not_ to take it home, but she reminded herself that she had responsibilities, and safety was first on the list.

“I am Chirithy.”

She scoffed in response. It was if it wanted her to understand it yet it refused to offer an explanation. It didn’t give her the impression that it did so naively, either. 

Terra didn’t have good advice. “You’re the Master. Lay down the law.”

The law wasn’t exactly built to withstand Ventus, though. And he didn’t have to ask. Or even beg with his eyes. It was just his elation: how comfortable he felt around the creature, like he was already planning what they’d be doing together the next few days.

And she couldn’t bring herself to break his heart. “Okay fine. We’ll keep him.”

 

* * *

 

Ventus decided the first order of business was to give Chirithy a quick tour of the castle while she finished dinner. It was good timing anyway, since the sun was nearly gone.

She heard him say, “we have to turn all the lights on. It’s not good for Aqua to walk around in the dark” before his voice trailed off as he ran down the hallway with the creature floating closely behind him.

Terra sat at the bar that formed a barrier between the kitchen and the dining room as she stirred the pot. Several minutes were left before it was finished.

“Have you ever heard of a Chirithy before?” she asked, though she kept her eyes on the stovetop.

“Nope.”

“Not in any book?” She whipped around, flabbergasted. She wished she wasn’t the only one.

“No. He’s pretty tight-lipped, isn’t he?”

She walked up to the bar, tracing the random patterns on the marble. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ll get a straight answer out of him. He’s also strangely attached to Ven.”

He rolled his lips inward, containing a laugh. “Are you regretting letting him in?”

She slowly shook her head. “I didn’t sense a trace of darkness in him.”

Which could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. Something made her feel off, even though she really couldn’t see the threat.

“I agree.” Terra interlaced his fingers, leaning forward. “I also think Ven’s heart is in the right place. And it just seemed like… Ven also has attachments.”

That was probably it. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you think he could be from Ven’s home world?”

While Terra and Aqua were able to share stories of where they came from, Ventus was usually left out of such conversations. He simply had no recollection of his origins, and was never able to recover.

Terra brought his hand to his chin. “It’s likely.” She could hear the excitement in his soft voice. And it made sense. She was excited to learn about this, too.

Ventus’ voice slowly made its way back to the dining room, and she counted her blessings that they didn’t keep talking about this within earshot.

When he threw the doors open, she immediately asked so as to not look suspicious, “back already?”

Chirithy made its way onto the bar. It was friendly enough, and would be friendlier if it wasn’t so formal. “We traversed only this floor. It’s quite a homely place. Ventus is scatterbrained but he makes a good tour guide.”

‘Homely’ wasn’t a word she would use to describe the castle. While it was home to her, it was lavish enough to intimidate any passerby.

The symbol on its coin purse resembled the shape of a five-pointed star. It was increasingly getting common to find that certain worlds hold this sign dearly, much like she had learned to perceive it.

“Does your symbol mean anything to you?” she asked.

“Light.” Its answers were always short and straight-forward, taking away any invitation to let her pry more.

“What do you carry in your pouch, Cheers?” Terra asked, his elbow leaning on the bar.

“Your nightmares.”

He laughed. “At least you’re entertaining.”

Ventus came in between them, his fingers on the edge of the marble, his eyes full of determination like he had a goal to finish as fast as possible. “Terra, you forgot to replace the light bulbs in the entertainment room.”

“Which one?”

“The billiards room. The chandelier won’t turn on.”

Knowing Terra, the exact retort crossing through his mind would be something close to _Yeah_ , _Aqua truly needs that room so she could take Cheers drinking_ , since that was usually where the Master would gather his guests.

But Ventus was so resolute about this, like Aqua would be in danger without these new lightbulbs, that Terra didn’t object.

“Yes, sir.” He wasn’t enthusiastic, and let his groan say so. He dragged his feet, the other two following close behind him.

To be a Keyblade wielder and having the most pressing concern be a burnt fixture. It had to be a sign that things were getting better, since their conversations lately turned into monotony like this instead of what truly haunted them. Admittedly it was sweet that Ventus worried over her so much, though it was ironic how the tables had turned since she used to be the one babying him. 

Her attention to the food was only interrupted when she heard a thunderous crash. A rip, like the crumbling of earth. Shattered glass; by the loads of them considering how heavy it sounded.

“Is everything okay?” she called.

Silence.

“Guys?” She stepped down the hall, calling out again in case they didn’t hear her.

The hallway itself was bright, showing off the elegance of the castle. But it was so quiet, she could hear the filament above her buzzing.

The only response she received was Chirithy, who appeared around the corner. At first, it didn’t say anything, but she noticed its dazed walk.

“What’s going on?” Her pace quickened.

“He dreams,” Chirithy said, more to itself than anyone else. It was scared. “It’s hard to come back.”

She sprinted down the hallway, with just one thought in her mind. _Terra_.

The billiards room. The only light entering it was from the hallway, while the sunlight that should have reached its windows dimmed into dusk.

The chandelier was sprawled all over the ground, the glint of its glass sprinkling across the carpet and all over the pool table. There should be a bar stacked with wine bottles on the other side of the room, but she couldn’t make it out in the darkness. Ventus was nowhere to be found.

There was Terra, shivering and mumbling by a table on the far wall, the step ladder collapsed over. He kept grabbing at his face as if to pull something off it, like it kept him from speaking. His armored arm is tense and forced onto the table, and even through this poor lighting, she saw dense shadows dancing around him.

Darkness, emanating from his arm.

She was about to step inside. She needed to. She could see him clearly. But there wasn’t a way for her to tell if a portal to the Realm of Darkness opened here, or if there was something waiting to strike.

Her first instinct was to summon her Keyblade but it wasn’t with her anymore.

Not that she should care about that when Terra was in trouble.

“What happened?” she heard Ventus say. He approached her, a cart full of new lightbulbs in his arms.

“The- the stew.” She waved her arm at him, shooing him into action. “Get the stew. Now.”

He followed her orders, taking the box with him as he raced back to the kitchen. Leaving her completely alone, weaponless.

Terra whimpered. Her instinct propelled her forward, throwing herself into the dark to answer him. She remembered she could still fight without her Keyblade, despite how dangerous it was to be so naked in defense. She looked for signs of aggression, ready to attack first.

Which made her sick. The darkness made her sick and now she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while. It was so unfair how she was here, thinking about having to protect herself from Terra. Of all people. Again.

“It was supposed to be an easy fix,” he mumbled. It didn’t seem like he was saying it to her, but to whatever presence he felt approach him. It was almost like begging, like he was desperate to be forgiven for the mishap. “It was supposed to be an easy fix.”

“Terra, you’re home,” she said. She had one hand out to comfort him, and one hand behind her ready to strike. “You’re okay.”

“… fix.”

“Terra, tell me what you need.”

He inhaled sharply, suddenly aware who was talking to him. He voiced more clearly, “can I touch you?”

It would leave her completely exposed to attack. She knew it. She almost expected to see a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her. But she banked on Ventus being her back-up, so she didn’t care.

She fully embraced him, her arms around his neck. He held her by the waist, his face buried in the crux of her neck as he gasped and steadied his breathing. His bad arm continued to wedge into the surface of the table, his knuckles bracing hard as if he was afraid of his own limb.

Aqua didn’t know how what to say, or how she could possibly shelter such a large man in her dainty arms from whatever scared him. She hated how often they had to pick themselves up over and over again – when would they be allowed to live without so much venom plaguing them?

His breathing slowed, his muscles relaxed some. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice still shook.

She rubbed his back. “It was just a stupid lightbulb.”

The shadow he casted from the hallway light was large and looming. It stretched, like it morphed Terra’s body into a muscular beast. Almost as big as the monster that once stalked Xehanort’s Heartless.

No, she shouldn’t think about that. Once Terra was fine, they would leave this awful room.

Almost as if to frighten her more, she caught sight of two round, crimson eyes watching her. Up against the wall behind him. Unwavering, bright, hateful.

Until she blinked and they were gone.

She didn’t need to hallucinate right now, she needed to get Terra out of here.

Ventus walked in, the smell of chili peppers filling the room as he carried the pot in between his mittens.

The atmosphere changed so much when he arrived, as if the existence of a humble home-cooked meal dispelled the existence of any demon. Unless they were hungry for a woman’s hard work.

Terra sighed. “That smells so good.”

The pot found a place on the table, which compelled Terra to move his arm away.

Though he kept it by his side, as if touching anything with it would bring it harm.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, acting more like his old self. Though exhausted.

He still held her close by the waist, his grip a little harder as though he was now the one shielding her from whatever it was that lurked in this room.

“Um…”

He didn’t need to hear any more from her. He guided her out of the room, back to where it was bright and she could see the gold inlays that swept the castle walls. Chirity stood here, calmly like it was simply waiting for all of them to gather.

Terra immediately closed the door once Ventus walked out, leaving the darkness to fend for itself for tonight.

It was dark only because it was nighttime and the lights weren’t working. Not because there was anything really there.

“We’re safe now,” Terra said.

They weren’t. Or they were, she couldn’t make up her mind. Aqua stepped forward to trace the doorway with her a wave of her hand, casting a powerful Reflega to seal the way out. If something was in there, it would face pain.

No one commented on her actions.

“What just happened?” Ventus asked.

Terra groaned, his head hanging in shame. Moments like these usually came when he improved the most. “I slipped and pulled on the chandelier. I kind of freaked... It was really just a stupid accident, I’m sorry.”

So there was nothing else inside that room.

“There was no darkness?” she asked. She shouldn’t, but she needed the confirmation.

“Just mine.” His voice hitched. He was still able to channel darkness, his body forced to keep a connection to it from years of being used as a vessel for it. It was something he hated talking about, and he never let either of them learn what this last decade was like for him.

He held her by the shoulder with his good arm. “Let Ven and me worry about the darkness, okay?”

Ventus chortled, jabbing the pot of stew to make a point. “You’ll only get to deal with the darkness when I say so.”

Her boys laughed, which was a sound she preferred to hear. Although a remark like that was something only Ventus could say. If she had told Terra the same thing, she would only make it sound hurtful.

Maybe she really was the only one to think this was a crisis.

“I’m being ridiculous,” she said.

“Are you talking about the Reflega?” Terra shook his head in disagreement. “You do what you need to do.”

“What kind of Keyblade Master is afraid of the dark?” she retorted. 

“Ours was.”

It sounded like the bounce of a metal needle against the vibration of ceramic. While he was soft, the statement was pointedly loud.

“That doesn’t bode well for me, does it?”

“No one has the right to expect anything from you, not after what you’ve been through.” His eyes were stern, but his voice tender. “You deserve to give yourself a break.”

She wanted to spit about how humiliating the hesitation was. If she was in her right mind, she would have been there for him in less than a heartbeat.

“Darkness is strongest when we’re isolated and uncertain,” Chirithy said. “It gathers numbers among the blinded.”

Shock number whatever for the night: Chirithy enjoyed lecturing, apparently over the nature of light and darkness. Which begged the question as to why it even knew such information, and she vowed to find a book that would explain.

But this didn’t seem to make Ventus suspicious, either. “Hmm, that’s right. Light is strongest when we’re safe and together.”

“Yes.”

“That means she should hold Terra’s hand.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, craning its neck to look up. “Why would that-”

“She’s happier that way,” he said matter-of-factly, and she heard Terra let out the smallest snigger when he failed to keep it to himself.

Ventus didn’t have the decency to notice how potent he made the awkwardness. Terra and Aqua avoided looking at each other straight in the eye, and she thought about giving him the most sour piece of the sherbet. But he (eventually) cleared his throat, nudging his head back in the direction of the kitchen.

“Well, now that the crisis is averted,” he said, “I’m starving. Come on, Chirithy. You’re our guest so you get first dibs.”

Then he left them alone to deal with the consequences of his statement, as if his exit wasn’t cringe-worthy either. He even quickened his pace to get out of there sooner.

“Is that true?” Terra asked when the sound of footsteps disappeared.

It was a conversation she wasn’t ready to have, but it was a welcome distraction. If she braved the darkness, then surely she could show some spine right now. “Yeah. It is.”

His grin grew a little wider, and he took the time to process the information. There wasn’t a way to be sneaky about it, and saying anything might have made it all the more intimidating.

What was left to do, simply, was to accept that his fingers found the spaces in between hers.

It was pleasantly quiet as they walked down the hall, where they weren’t forced to talk about what they were doing. What a difference it made when she allowed him to simply sweep her away from what harmed her instead of doing it on her own – when she could actually let her mind wander. When she could let herself take his elbow with her other hand and there was nothing that either of them had to say to make this moment any better.

But she knew Terra well. What others would have mistaken for tepidness, shyness, a cool nature, or a quiet disposition, she knew exactly what a smug expression on his face would look like as the gears in his mind went to work.

“Don’t start,” she warned.

“Not to worry, Master Aqua, I’ll get you to the kitchen safely,” he said, inflecting his voice ever so slightly as though he was helping the elderly cross the street.

Of course. “When I get my Keyblade back-”

“You’ll try and kick my ass,” he offered.

“You mean I will.”

“I mean you will attempt.” He glanced at her. “Come on, you’d only feel bad afterward if you did.”

“Depending on my mood.”

“I’ll be prepared.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and giggled like they were still teenagers waiting to grow up.

And she joined, leaning her head on his shoulder hoping that one day they’d do more than just touch. Grateful his eyes were still blue. That he was still home, on a night that didn’t collapse.

Laughter was its own special light, brighter than the stars that shone down on the castle, or the electric lamps that led them to a dinner waiting to be consumed. It had the power to make her forget, which was a quirk close to nothing else could boast. Except maybe what they held in between their hands.

She laughed, leaving the nightmare alone by the pool table.


	2. anti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh I really didn’t mean to take this long to update this one. But I’m so ecstatic to finally get out a new chapter, it took me a good month to write it and for now, I’m proud of it. I hope you like it! So many, many, countless thanks to Eli for beta-reading this piece and making sure characterizations and other deeper layers are a good fit, this work would not have survived without your help, love, and support. <3

When she brushed her hair, she did so alone - without the mirror, without anyone watching. After the bristles glided easily and she felt finished, she'd pat it flat, smoothing out the ends just in case she missed a knot or two. If there were any loose strands, they'd be damned.

It was a still night, the curtains drawn with no wind to disturb the glass, and no whispers behind an unseen reflection of her mirror, which to this hour stood pathetically underneath a discarded bedsheet. No sound disturbed her, and it would have been peaceful silence if she didn't have thoughts - until there was a soft knock on her door.

Terra opened it for himself. "Hey."

And Aqua couldn't help but smile. "Hey."

Interrupting them was a loud bang, like a lamp falling over, tussling some furniture. She tensed up, expecting something to endanger the safety of her room, maybe even another episode - the last one with Terra was something she still could not put to rest.

Aqua was ready, a list of spells reciting in her mind. But Terra's quiet chuckle gave her the indication that everything was as normal as it should be.

There was laughter down the hall, a squeak and a giggle. Ventus was fine.

"It sounds like those two are going to keep me up all night," Terra said with an exasperated smirk. "You know, I'm glad that Cheers came to us."

Part of her agreed - Chirithy's arrival meant that Ventus slept happily, soundly.

And through the entire night, bless that cat-thing.

But part of her didn't want new adventures. Something was still... weird, and she wished to have her family together without any fear, without wondering if she had to prepare for any surprises.

She kept those thoughts to herself.

"They'll be asleep before you know it," she said. Call it denial but it was better to count their blessings and hope there were more where they came from.

"How are you doing tonight?" He stayed at her doorframe, head peeking in like he was testing the waters, to see if he was trespassing - not that he ever could, he was the one thing that brightened up the night.

It was slick of him to ask that question when so many others would have been more accurate to how he really felt: _Are you okay? Has anything scared you? Do you need me to stay with you? Would you like to come to my room?_

Maybe even: _I need you, too._

Aqua nodded slowly in response, rolling her words in her mouth before she spoke as much as she fiddled with the brush in her hands.

Yes, of course she wanted him to stay. There was no denying that she wanted to be near him.

But no. She had rejected his offer for three nights now and she hated it. But still, no.

There were things that she didn't want him to see. Not just yet, anyway.

"I'm doing okay," she said. "I'm thinking of staying here for tonight."

She should not make herself into a burden when she was already compromised: a Keyblade Master without a Keyblade. It wasn't Aqua's style to _need_ this much, so the best defense for now was to steel herself and fight her battles like nothing had changed.

Except losing a Keyblade was a huge deal so she had to get creative in order to look like she still had her life together.

Needless to say, her boys weren't very impressed with how she was doing so far.

"Okay." His voice was respectful but his eyes… disappointed. He rubbed her doorframe, like he was comforting it, and she might as well tell him it was obvious the gesture was really for himself. "If you need anything-"

"I know where to find you." She smiled. Who knew if it was convincing.

"Yeah." He patted the doorframe once, and forced a smile. "Good night."

"Night."

He closed the door behind him, and she waited for the sounds.

Footsteps faded away, first over to the left, with muffled voices to check if everyone else was tucked in and ready for sleep. Then to the right where a door opened, and before it closed, the sound of a loud flick of the light switch. Light that crept under her door was now darkness.

She threw herself out of her chair, to lock her door before she cast Reflect on it, protecting her from whatever stood waiting outside in the hallway.

It wasn't enough of course. She cast Reflect on her mirror, the bedsheet covering it just as necessary.

She cast Reflect on her closet.

To her bathroom door.

The window.

This was her new ritual, and she dared darkness to be brave enough and break through. She sat on her bed with her legs crossed, like she was ready to calm down now but there was no telling her heart that it could finally breathe easy.

The light from her ceiling glared on, suffocating the glow coming from her bedside lamp. They were brand new light bulbs, too fresh to make any physical sound yet they were still louder than sirens and they kept her up every night because they did their job too well.

Aqua wanted to be in Terra's arms; she needed to hear his heartbeat, needed to see that his eyes were still blue.

 _Needed_. It was time to do away with that.

Eventually, her body would do what was natural when it was exhausted enough, getting her to pull the covers over, getting her under the drone of sleep.

When her body eventually did its job, she saw what her mind dared her to see: a black horned monster, its blue veins pumping with energy, its snarled teeth trapped behind bandages, hovering right at her door without an introduction.

She made sure to lock it; she swore she did and here it was anyway.

The monster turned her lights off, and most of it disappeared in the shadows, its yellow eyes still hovering in space.

Aqua could not move her body, and she willed the monster away - there was still strength there, all she had to do was get up, it shouldn't be this hard. She fought it before without a Keyblade and could do it again.

It floated over to her bedside and there it was, face to face with her, heavy breaths counting down to when it would start.

At first, it almost reached to touch her, but instead its fingers grasped the fabric of the bandages crossing over its mouth, struggling at first to take them off but finally succeeding. It said her name.

_Aqua…_

All the while a cat with red eyes watched on by her windowsill.

 

* * *

 

The only cure for a bad night's sleep was tea in the morning. Despite her pounding headache, Aqua prepared herself with three open books for a hard study on how to brew the best.

She was not the resident tea expert - that title went to Terra - but she liked to play an aggressive game and wanted to impress. The books were spread on the countertop: one for tea with fruits, one for spices, and one all about the philosophy of brewing different types, at what temperatures, and for how long.

Aqua chose the hard route by creating a new brew instead of following a simple recipe - last night had defeated her, and she really needed to win at something that didn't make her feel like she was a lost cause.

She opened the cupboard for two mugs to find that she only need one.

The Master's mug, this enormous ceramic perfection with a painted, curled mustache near the rim. He loved drinking out of this, the joke being that if he ever wanted to change his style, he could always do so in the mornings with a side of coffee. The _size_ of it made it more like a chalice than anything else that was proper for a kitchen.

It was one of the things neither of them could bring themselves to throw away.

Terra claimed it for himself now, toying with the idea of growing out facial hair but never following through with it.

In the Master's chalice, she mixed her concoction: ginger tea with turmeric and orange slices.

She checked each of her books one more time, making sure that her equations were correct, that she brewed something worthwhile. She took one little sip - meh, it was decent enough, and now she was nervous that he wouldn't like it.

Voices floated near the dining room - it was curtain time.

Ventus spoke first, his tone anxious, like he was desperate and needy. "I don't know, man… You know Aqua. She's going to kill you."

"Ven," Terra replied to shut him up. "What else do you-"

A sigh.

"Everything's going to be fine, buddy," Terra said, and she was certain what followed was a rustle through Ven's hair.

Years later and it was still second nature for all of them not to take Ventus seriously. She felt bad for him.

The door opened and only Terra came through, making her wonder if Ventus was now sulking - if he was, he didn't turn to either of them anymore. He turned to Chirithy.

"It smells great in here," he said as though he didn't suspect that Aqua heard anything.

Which put her in an awkward situation - ask for what they were talking about, or keep it a pleasant morning?

...Was she really that traumatized that she had to be worried over what Terra was up to? She should (and would) trust him.

"Look what I did," she said instead, displaying the chalice proudly with a half-full teapot over the bar that stood in between them. She didn't say anything else, giving him the opening to volunteer the information himself.

He did not. He smirked. "Let's see how well you performed, Master."

The rim of this quirky mug approached his lips, a huge caricatured mustache now donned across his face right under his nose, like a portrait of an era from long ago. It almost made him look like Master Eraqus; she really should take a picture.

His sip was purposefully loud, the smack of his tongue vibrant as he tested the flavor, a gentle swallow when he finished - he did all this without ever breaking his gaze on her, and Aqua found that she quite enjoyed the way he looked at her, and she definitely noticed how comfortable it was to stare back.

"I'm actually quite impressed," he said as he set the mug down.

"Seriously?" She didn't think it was anything special, so she grabbed it and brought it to her own lips.

Hm, oddly it tasted better. Maybe she always thought his tea tasted amazing because he always shared it with her.

His chuckles interrupted her drink. "Facial hair looks good on you," he said.

"You're not as clever as you think you are."

"I am." He took the mug back. "You're stealing from me."

Laughing almost felt normal, like they hadn't lost anything and they didn't have to be afraid of losing again.

He stopped himself from drinking more to stare in awe of her smile.

Then he shrugged it off and darted his eyes somewhere else - to the floor - as he sipped, sinking into a thought that took some of his joy away.

"What is it?" she asked.

If anything, she was grateful he didn't try to lie about it. "I've decided what I want to do."

This day was always going to come, she knew it. The easiest, most joyful days were always the first to slip away and she told herself the entire time she anticipated it that it didn't mean they would be separated. She had to believe that.

"Let's hear it."

He brought himself to look at her in the eyes. "I want to train with Riku, take as much time as I can with him before he leaves."

It made sense. It also meant that he chose Riku as his Master.

"He'll be good for you," she said.

Something about the way he avoided her gaze told her that there was more to it. "Aqua, I'll be meeting him in Destiny Islands."

"You-" She inhaled. "You won't be training in the castle?"

"No."

All she was able to will out of herself was to stare at her fingers, reminding herself that every student of the Keyblade deserved privacy for their personal growth and it wasn't anything personal.

"It's not anything to do with you. It's just…" Tears formed behind his eyes and he blinked them away. "Every morning, every night, every moment no matter how distracted I am or how detailed I plan a better future, all I have left to come to is myself."

"Terra..." Ever since they came home, he had a nasty self-hating habit and most of the time she wasn't confident that her words would comfort him.

How many times would she tell him that she was proud of him? How many times did he say that she had no reason to?

And what was the point for all this self-flagellation when she understood him more than he realized?

She nearly told him - _nearly_ \- but there was something as thick as tar that glued her mouth together. She didn't tell him that she failed, too, that darkness took her, that she got angry, that she attacked her friends and allies.

If she said anything he would ask _why_ it happened, and there wasn't a single word in the dictionary to soften the blow.

"Listen," he said, bringing his hand close to hers, stopping himself from asking her to take it. "Either way, I want _you_ to be the one to test for my Mark of Mastery."

Her eyes met his. "You sure?"

"Yes. I want - no, I need you to see me at my best. Please."

She understood the words he _wasn't_ saying: he needed to reassure himself that they were equals. In her eyes, they still were.

"I will."

Her normal Terra was back - eyes filled with determination, with hope, with the vow that he would succeed. "There's one more thing."

She scoffed. "Okay."

"I'm also going to be training with Merlin."

"Oh."

This she didn't expect: him training with a stranger when magic was her expertise. She almost asked him not to go, almost spit a long resumé of how skilled she was and surely she could teach him if he was interested.

Which meant that Terra would spend more time away from home, too. "What would you be working on?"

"Oh you know," he said, trying so hard to make her feel better. "Taming these powers some asshole who cheated death left behind for me to deal with."

He failed.

Aqua supposed that in spite of how long they had existed apart, there were still journeys they had to take alone. Maybe sooner in the future, they would all be inseparable again.

Or was that too unrealistic to believe? Since when did her Mark of Mastery promise that adulthood would be this hard?

His fingers brushed hers, hesitant at first then relieved when she reciprocated, giving her a grip so tight as if he was the one who kept her standing.

"I promise," he said, lowering his voice to a soft whisper, "I'll be home every day before the sun sets."

Terra smiled once more, stroking her thumb with his, searching her eyes, her lips, her forehead. "Just one more thing." He brushed through some straggling strands, matching one side of her head with the other, making sure she was well-kept.

She might as well melt into mush and keep him here for at least one more day, at least to prepare a proper good-bye, but Aqua stood on her own two feet so he could start his soul-searching guilt-free. "Keep your Gummiphone on you."

"You're such a mom." He gave her a gentle squeeze before letting go, the ghost of his warmth still on her. She cupped it with her other hand as if to keep it. It didn't work.

At least he humored her by showing his Gummiphone tucked in his pocket, before handing his mug over. "I'll allow you to have the rest," he said.

His footsteps echoed in the entrance hall before they were muffled by the outside, and shushed by the time he was too far away. He bid his farewell to Eraqus' memorial first before summoning his armor, the last sound he made a burst of fire as his glider took him to the sky.

The tea was still hot, but it had lost most of its flavor.

 

* * *

 

It would have been difficult for anyone else to find Ventus in such a large castle - however Aqua knew him well. If he wasn't playing around in the training grounds, hiding in the highest loft of the library, or pigging out in the kitchen, then he was in his room.

How right she was, hearing voices coming from behind his door.

She knocked. "Ven?"

"Just a sec."

He rummaged, and she heard the snap of a bedsheet. Timing herself to the movement of the fabric, she walked in, just in time for him to double check that his mirror was completely covered.

"Thanks," she said, wishing her boys didn't have to be so careful around her.

Chirithy stood on his table next to a carefully placed stack of books so worn out that the leather started to peel. It wiggled its ears and groomed its paws, and it was endearing enough that it almost looked like a house cat.

For as much as Ventus was the eternal child in their trio, he was way more tidy than Terra. Souvenirs from the Master's adventures littered his walls and bookshelves, all neatly arranged so that they each shined without being shadowed by another. Aqua wondered if Ventus remembered each one's story - she certainly didn't.

"You talked to Terra?" Ventus asked, cautiously in fact, like he expected a fight out of it.

"I did," Aqua replied, her tone suspicious. "Everything is fine."

This confused him a little. "Okay. So what now?"

"That's what I came to ask you."

He made himself comfortable on his own seat, and if she didn't have to burden him with huge existential questions about the direction of his future, he would have probably expected this day to be spent with another fun run in the woods, like any teenage boy would want to do. He still liked his poop and fart jokes (and Terra still laughed at them).

But Ventus was also the most determined, and she and Terra often made the mistake of underestimating him. He perked up with all the confidence of someone much older.

"Well, there's a lot of questions I want answered."

Immediately she leaned forward, her shoulders straight and ready for the responsibility. "Shoot."

He chuckled nervously, his hand deliberately massaging his neck. "Um… I don't think you'll be able to help me with any of them."

"Why not?"

"Well, unless Realm of Darkness gave you a history lesson about my past..." Ah. Of course. "It sucks not having anybody to talk to about it," he said, and Chirithy stopped its grooming. "No one alive, I mean. Xehanort must have known something, though. It didn't hit me until after he died, but now I don't have anyone to ask."

"... You want to leave, too?"

"I don't know," he said too quickly. "Maybe. One of these days, yeah. But there's also..." He lost the words, and placed a hand at the top of the book stack. "I was supposed to read these and write the Master an essay. He postponed the deadline so I could watch your Mark of Mastery."

Then he turned to her. "I kind of remember what it was supposed to be about, and I want to do the right thing and finish it first. Will you read it when I'm done?"

"Y-yeah, sure, if you think it would help."

"...Why are you so surprised? Aren't you my Master now?"

It left her with a breathless, dry laugh. "Am I?"

He shrugged, like it was the most obvious decision he could have made. "I can't think of anyone better."

"Ven," she said, her hand running through his hair. There wasn't a good enough _thank you_ for such a compliment. Not to her anyway, all she had was a meek nod.

Then the responsibility, the _honor_ , of being his Master dawned on her - she would have to develop an academic plan for him.

But what of? In the silence that followed, she thought of her Master and his strict lessons, half their time spent in archaic books and the rest in sparring. Philosophy was processed, digested, and repeated instead of debated. Sometimes they had formal lessons in behavioral manners, politics - even history if they were lucky.

Much of it wasn't really relevant when all she had was her education in the darkest nights.

"If you really want to write the essay," she finally said, "we'll start with that."

She took the one at the very top, the most worn with a thick cover threaded by ancient hand-made methods from before book printing was a thing.

" _Affairs of the Heart_ by the Master of Masters," she read aloud. "Ugh, I remember when Terra and I had to read this one."

"Isn't it awful?"

"The worst."

Ventus shook his head with disgust. "I wonder if the entire thing is a lame excuse for a joke."

She snorted. "What do you mean?"

" _Thou shalt neither succumb at temptation and ne'er be fray y'est thine heart be ill-fitted with worrys_ ," he imitated with a deep, exaggerated voice, using his hand as a puppet.

"I don't think _y'est_ is a word, Ven."

"Whatever."

"The teachings have failed you?" Chirithy said, surprising her - she completely forgot it had been witness. It's so much like a cat sometimes: watching, ignoring, maybe even judging.

"You could say that," Ventus said with a nervous smirk, desperately and silently pleading at Aqua for permission to say more. "I mean, I don't want to say that my Master was a bad teacher. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to protect myself at all. He practically raised me and I owe him a lot-"

"Then what is troubling you?" Chirithy asked.

"I wasn't prepared to be fighting my own shadow." He leaned back, his hands supporting his head to give off the casual impression that nothing was really bothering him (it was). "He had a face and emotions, his own view of the world... Nothing I've ever read gave me the impression that was even possible."

Chirithy wiggled its ears, cocking its head. "Therefore your teachings about the light were incomplete?"

"Not at all." He straightened up like a lightning bolt. "I knew very little about the darkness and after everything that happened, I think a Keyblade Wielder should know more about it. I mean, I don't know where Xehanort got the idea to split me in two. Why _me_?"

"Your light has and will always be bright and powerful, Ventus," Chirithy chirped with _suspicious_ confidence, before lowering its head. "It is ripe for the greedy, and I have seen the strongest faith break apart and cast the biggest, blackest shadows."

"Have you really?" Aqua intervened, now that they're on the subject. It kept its own past so close to its chest that catching it on the act of speaking was a golden opportunity. "You have any other unmatched and infinite wisdom you'd like to share, Cheers?"

"Like?"

Aqua rested her elbow on her knee, her chin in her hand. "Tell me about where you came from. Who taught you to speak?"

"I was made scientifically, in a flask," it said flatly. Maybe as far as sarcastically.

"Okay then," she nodded. "Well, I'd love to chat when you're ready to be serious."

"I have doppelgangers who all share my name," it continued. Ventus found this particularly funny.

"Yeah, sure," she brushed it off, turning her attention back to her new student. "Ven, I get it, I really do. I wasn't prepared for the Realm of Darkness, either."

"Really?" Now who was being cynical. "I don't think I would have stayed human if I was down there for that long… But you're a Master, so of course you survived."

It stung more than he realized, more than Terra would ever comprehend, more than Chirithy could measure, but Aqua kept herself calm.

She simply didn't know how to tell them that the savior they all saw in her was really an imposter.

"I'm just saying," she said, surprising herself with how steady she sounded, "that I don't want to follow the same path as our Master. If you think you'll find answers outside, then you deserve to know. I won't stop you."

Ventus' expression left Aqua wishing that one day soon, they could talk about the future without the baggage of the past. He was almost shocked, like this was his first taste of being treated as an adult, and he liked it.

Then there was a shift in his eyes, and she could tell that he didn't know how to walk the talk or where to begin. She didn't know either - should she really allow him to leave when he wanted or should they wait until he was Master before embarking on a treacherous journey first?

"I've got time to figure it out," he said. "I don't even know what I'm looking for yet. I'll stay here for now, at least until Terra's done with his training."

"Why is that?"

He said too much. "No reason."

"Ven, you know I don't like bullshit."

He flinched. "Promise not to get mad."

"I can't make-"

"Swear on this stupid book," he tapped _Affairs of the Heart_ , "that you will not get upset."

She sighed, lazily putting her hand on the ancient tome. "I promise." Not a second too soon, she let go.

Ventus took his sweet time to respond. "We thought it might be a good idea to always have one Keyblade wielder in the castle at all times."

"That sounds sensible."

He was relieved - too relieved for her taste. "Really?"

"Huh." It wasn't for the castle's sake. It was for hers. "I don't remember needing bodyguards."

He squirmed. "You promised."

Her lips pursed to the point of soreness and she desperately wanted to assure him that yes, she wanted to smack him on the side of the head with that book.

But she had to admit watching his reaction was pretty funny. "Focus on your essay. I'll ask for it in about three days."

"I- I can't read all of that in-"

"Finish it."

She left him there, gently shutting the door behind her and overhearing him tell Chirithy that maybe she might be scarier than Eraqus. Aqua didn't actually commit to such a tight deadline, but she'd wait a little longer before informing him.

It seemed the moment Terra made his decision was proof that they all had to own up to their duties, and that their vacation of peace and reconciling was over.

Aqua walked down a hallway far enough to be sure she wouldn't be heard before whipping out her Gummiphone, scrolling through contacts. She understood the basic concept of how to use it, but it was still foreign enough that it wasn't second nature just yet. What a strange new life she woke back up to.

She found it, easily enough: Ienzo, Radiant Garden. She made the call, and a video screen lit up, his entire face on display.

"Master Aqua," he greeted. He was always so polite. "I've been expecting your call since we last spoke."

She hated the words that were going to come out, but it was time to take that first leap of faith into the abyss. "I'm ready to find my Keyblade."

"Yes," he confirmed. "I've already conducted a survey among the team and prior Organization members. I apologize again that I have no memory of it, I was so young.

"But anyway…" He cheered himself up. "You'll be happy to hear that yes, when Xehanort was found, there was a blue Keyblade and a set of armor by his side. Though I'm sorry to say that he experimented with it."

She told herself that _starting_ was going to be the worst part, and it would get easier after she swallowed the bile building in her throat. "Can you elaborate?"

"Not on any human, mind you." His hand waved in dismissal at the camera. "He merely wanted it to cooperate. It wouldn't respond to him, it was as good as dead."

"Good." Her Keyblade, her own heart and soul bound to a weapon, made her proud.

"However, all the failures of making it spark discouraged him, so he locked it away."

"What does that mean?"

His eyes were far away now, gesturing to someone off-camera to leave him be for a minute. "He was very protective of it and didn't want to give anyone else a try."

 _Protective_ would be the last word she'd ever use to describe Xehanort, but this wasn't really just him, was it? This was also a white-haired Terra, someone who apparently didn't understand his own past, attached to a relic that reminded him of feeling.

It made her think of how doting Terra was to make her smile, and how enchanted he became when he succeeded.

And then she imagined a white-haired freak begging some inanimate object to give him the validation of a greeting.

She didn't know how to feel about that.

"Okay, where is it now?"

"No one knows," he said somberly. "I'm afraid I don't have a better answer for you…

"What we do have is a shelf of journals, including personal diaries and notes about his scientific experiments," he continued. "Perhaps the answer might lie inside?"

"No," she said and instantly regretted letting it out of her mouth. No, no, no, no. She didn't want to know anything about any of that: creating Heartless, locking people up, flirting and deceiving, backstabbing people who thought they were his comrades, all with Terra's face and hands.

This was exactly why she didn't want Terra to help her with this either. It was best to leave Xehanort buried and not do anything to revive him - _especially_ giving his thoughts any respect of existence. Why did the old man go and make things this complicated?

Taking a leap of faith was supposed to be like dipping into cold water - unpleasant and maybe painful at first but the temperature should level after a while.

This was more akin to jumping into acid now.

Right when proper words had failed her the most.

"I completely understand if you don't-"

"You misunderstand me," she corrected, and she regretted that too.

 

* * *

 

Terra kept his promise.

He came home right before the sun set behind the western mountains, when there was still enough light to filter through the stained glass. It barely took fifteen minutes after he arrived before it finally got dark - but not fifteen minutes too late, exactly as she needed him to.

Aqua gave in and asked Ienzo to ship Xehanort's journals. Now it was _anticipating_ having to read them, and _wondering_ what kind of horrid images she would have to expose herself to, and _why why why_.

She thought she had virtuoso though, and powered through dinner in spite of the storm brewing inside of her - which of course her boys noticed.

Ventus thought she was angry with him. Terra thought she was mad at him.

It wasn't until after dinner, when Terra approached her, that Aqua realized the minutes had betrayed her sense of time - at least the library was a pleasant place to spend them.

Open books littered the shelves and she already forgot where they belonged. Right now, she was too busy flipping pages from the one in her arms.

Terra put down a satchel with its flap pulled back. It was filled with raw, cloudy crystals, like he had just picked them out from some mines.

"Crystal magic?" she asked.

"Merlin wanted to start with something simple." He had his arms crossed, bracing for whatever she had to say that would upset him. She didn't mean to make him feel this way, especially to the point that he dug for conversations to lighten the mood.

"I wouldn't consider crystal activation as simple." It was bizarre that they would start with this - even she had a hard time bending hard minerals to her will, and she was better at this stuff.

"Don't let him hear you say that."

Awkward silence settled in. She was supposed to chuckle at that.

So Terra, nervously rolling his lips, scanned through the titles of the books around her, closing them and making a stack.

"You're reading about spirit guides," he said, not as a question but as an observation. "Interesting. Is this about Cheers?"

"He's a punk and won't answer my questions." She scoffed at the realization that she was probably fooling herself. "There isn't a single mention of a _Chirithy_ in any of these books."

"I see." He sneaked glances at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. "Is that what's bothering you?"

"No," she said weakly. She supposed she couldn't avoid it anymore. "If I want to find Stormfall, I'll have to read through Xehanort's personal diaries."

"Oh, Aqua." The horror in his voice confirmed her worst fears. "I'm so sorry."

"There's no guarantee that I'll find what I'm looking for, either. I could be exposing myself to nonsense for no good reason."

He leaned forward, his fingers bracing her shoulder and she remembered that he was warm. "What can I do to help?"

"Oh-" She shook her head and it made him feel worse. Terra always hated to be left out, and this was especially touchy considering the guilt leaking out of his eyes. "Terra, I don't think it's a good idea for you to..."

"Read them." He sighed. There was a question at the tip of his tongue, something he attempted multiple times to ask but zipped himself up. "... Do you not feel safe around me anymore?"

"What?"

"I'm asking since you won't…" He barely looked at her, whatever he was thinking of embarrassed him. She bet it was because she wouldn't sleep in his room anymore.

"Of course I do, that's not it at all..."

If only she had the gift to inspire with her words, to talk about these things without hurting his feelings. Both of them lived with shackles on their ankles from their past transgressions, heavy enough to sink them because it mattered _that_ much that they'd drown if they didn't tread lightly.

It was an awful way to exist. "I'm not getting better," she said.

"I think it's my fault because of the situation with the stupid chandelier."

That was only partially true. How could she let him know that being around him made her breathe easier? "It's not. There's just some things I think is best to fight alone, you know?"

He bitterly scoffed. "I wish you would tell me how I can help."

"Look at me." She wondered if sometimes it hurt him to do so. Her fingers gently grazed his, welcoming an embrace so he could be comforted by the things she was terrible at saying. "I will have to read some very upsetting things, and there will be days when I won't be okay. I'll need you to listen when that happens. I'll need you to be a shoulder for me."

It sounded weird to ask him to do that. It used to be that they would promise things like to _tell the other when they're wrong_ , to _always split the food in equal thirds_ , to _pass the exam together_. She stood on her own and he did just fine, too - like they were equals. Asking for his strength didn't used to be status quo but she could see how desperately he wanted to be there for her and how much brighter he was when she let him in.

He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'll do my best."

In the meantime, she would shoulder herself that night, to try again and sleep on her own before dumping loads on her best friend with anything else that would add weight to his burdens.

Soon enough, even though she made (triple) sure that her barriers were solid and tall, someone turned off the lights in her room as soon as she got into bed.

Someone sat at her vanity table, shadows cloaking enough to hide the identity but leaving a silhouette.

Someone breathed.

Someone shifted comfortably in her chair, watching her.

 _Close your eyes_ , said a female voice.

Aqua wouldn't, she'd die if she did.

The figure stirred when she refused, and crept closer to the bed, soft footsteps thudding on her carpet.

Once again, Aqua was a hostage in her body.

Her own face corrupted with golden eyes sauntered into the moonlight, looking down with disdain and curiosity.

 _Close them_ , her double said with the demand for appeasement, as if darkness required a toll to let her move.

Her anti-self firmly pressed a scaly, frigid finger to her lips to shush her whimpering, before clasping a claw stained with a bitter red over her eyelids.

 

* * *

 

Ironically, her favorite pastime was only something she could do in the dark.

Aqua had spent years forgetting that the darkness was capable of doing anything beautiful, its one and only good deed being its necessary presence when it let the stars out.

With her boys, it was easier to go outside and rely on their cues on whether danger lurked near. It never did in the Land of Departure; she knew this and yet somehow she still found ways not to believe it.

Their night time picnics took place in the safety of huge lanterns that lit the way through the training grounds, the dark mountains far enough away to look like an unassuming painting. Of course, it would be easier to see the stars in the forests, where artificial light had no power, but Aqua needed constant reassurance that nothing in the shadows would swallow her back to hell.

That was always the point - stay in the light and she could prepare herself for what was coming. Aqua prayed that one day she could be ordinary again, just to be able to camp in the wild like she used to.

Tonight, Ven's laugh made it seem like night never existed in the first place.

With a stick, a string, and a few molted feathers, he madeshift a cat toy for Chirithy - though it was entirely unamused and it squinted enough that it might have been annoyed. Terra tossed snarky comments that Ventus should find someone his own size to pick on (Terra was out of the question, much too big and much too strong).

While it was pleasant to enjoy a picnic with her boys like the old days, something about it didn't feel so normal - Chirithy would always be a living reminder that the Master was dead, and maybe that was a blessing: she could spare herself the grief of expecting him to join them.

She grabbed a wrapped rice ball from the basket - each was filled with spiced chicken, to Terra's delight - and bit into it.

"I've been procrastinating," she said to Terra who sat next to her on the checkered blanket, low enough that Ventus wouldn't hear.

He nodded, a half-eaten treat in one hand that he immediately ignored. "Have you read anything?"

It had been several days that she left the journals in a neglected pile in the Master's office.

"Yeah." All she did so far was peek into one, figuratively tossing a coin between the chance that it would be written with Terra's handwriting or someone else's...

It turned out to be someone else's, the word ' _heart_ ' written on the page she pulled open. She shut it immediately because she couldn't handle the nausea.

Terra didn't ask for more information, forgetting he had food in his hand as his eyes glazed over and left the picnic he was supposed to be a part of.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"No." He shifted, leaning away like his first instinct was to avoid her and she hated how guilty he seemed all the time.

Then, after a time, he forced a smile - he really was good at giving himself silent pep talks to bravely face whatever he was worried about. "I saw Nami today."

For having their lives ruined for years, it was honestly good that he had such a trusted friend in Naminé. "How is she?"

"She's good." It was strange that he was nervous to speak about her, sitting on his legs in an awkward angle that it couldn't be comfortable.

"Terra."

"Yeah?"

"What is it?"

By now, Ventus was quiet, joining them on the blanket in the hopes of getting himself something delicious, but whatever appetite he had abandoned him in the presence of such tension. Chirithy crawled onto his lap, and to anyone else they looked like a boy keeping his stuffed animal close for comfort.

Actually, on second thought, he too was bracing himself for what was coming. Ventus _knew_ something.

"Okay," she commanded, "let's have it."

Rice fell in tiny clunks on the picnic blanket, like specks of snow. Terra didn't notice. "I asked her to…" He cleared his throat. "To rechain some of the memories that are disconnected from me."

Her heart stopped. "Excuse me?"

"Riku was with me, I didn't do it alone." He held his free hand up in surrender.

"I didn't-" She snapped, trapping her breath because she needed something to punish. "I didn't ask for this."

"I know." He looked past her, the courage to address her directly fleeting. "I only wanted to help."

"And what do you think it's going to do to you?" She dropped her rice ball and it splattered. "Did you think it was a good idea?"

"Aqua," Ventus objected, his brow furrowed like he was the one offended. "This is _Terra_ we're talking about. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

"Oh, but hurting himself is fine."

"You're not getting any better." Ventus leaned over, his hand drawing his points in the air, his tone slicing as sharp as mountain gusts. "And we both knew that you shouldn't be without a Keyblade. He said he was trying to help you out, or are you deaf?"

His words cut deeply enough to make her wince, and she wondered if it was a whiplash she started herself.

Was she doing it again, seeing Terra in such an awful way that she had to assume the worst? Was she going to have to watch him turn his back on her like he did before?

One of the things she regretted the most was refusing to hear what Terra had to say for himself that day.

"I didn't mean it that way-"

"She's right, Ven," Terra said, waving his arm. "I should have said something to her before I did anything."

If her words were going to continue to fail her, then she had nothing left except to crawl toward Terra, and lock him in her arms so tightly that it said what she needed to say better than she was capable of. All she had left was to hope that he heard her correctly.

He heard her right, taking her waist with both his arms, protecting her from herself. "I'm sorry. You won't lose me again."

 

* * *

 

Whatever it was that kept her company late at night - her mind, really - was the worst friend she ever had.

There she was on her bed, again, preparing for her routine: start with casting Reflect, pace back and forth, and then stare at the ceiling until she stopped remembering anything else before the sun greeted her.

It was bad enough that her boys noticed her deterioration, and they hadn't even seen what she was doing by herself when she closed the door.

When awake, she wanted to sleep so badly but when asleep, she begged to be wake up. A proper Keyblade Master should have a little more self-control.

However, Aqua didn't consider herself enough of a proper Master to really know what she was doing. Her hands kept finding her Gummiphone, fiddling with her contact list, and then dropping it back on her bed.

She was sick of nights like these. She texted Terra: _Are you awake?_

Almost immediately: _kitchen. lights are on._

Indeed there was one path of lit hallways taking her straight to the kitchen, the sky through the upper windows blackened from the clouds.

He sat on a stool at the middle counter, head buried in his hands with the teapot steaming by his side and the Master's mug filled to the brim. His thumb massaged his temple, and he didn't give much of a response when she entered and found her place next to him.

"This is my second cup," he sighed as he passed it toward her. Considering how huge it was, it was more like his fourth. "It'll help you better, I think."

It was chamomile tea even though he hated the taste of it. As she sunk a huge gulp, she tasted all the experimentation he did to make it pleasant: lavender, almond milk, and honey. He even added vanilla extract to make it sweeter, which meant his insomnia was quite serious this time.

"Delicious as always." Warmth filled her throat and solaced her chest down to her core, as though it was telling her that sleep wasn't a fantasy.

Terra did not reply. With elbows pressed onto the marble and his mouth leaning on his hands, he looked elsewhere - at the wall across from them. His pupils shivered as hard as his eyelids, his thoughts fighting a difficult battle all by himself.

Aqua traced her fingers on his arm. "Terra, where are you?"

Whatever he was thinking imprisoned his full attention, but it let him mumble, "I have memories that aren't mine."

A sick feeling of _I told you_ _so_ bubbled in her stomach, mixed with imagining the horrid images he was remembering, and fear of the sorrow that was threatening to barge in. He didn't deserve to experience this, and yet this was something Terra would have always chosen to do: spare her from the same.

"Please stay with me," she said, both hands wrapped around his forearm now, gently coaxing him back to reality where it was safer.

He blinked as though a strong light beamed into his eyes, and several more times to stop the tears. Sighing, settling into the stool, letting his shoulders relax, he turned to her, taking her fingers in his, and he looked at her like he actually saw her.

"I'm here."

Two words from him was enough. She handed the mug back and helped herself to leaning against his bicep, which was more comfortable than her pillow.

Terra took a huge swallow, his thumb gliding across her knuckles - ever since he grew into himself and passed through adulthood, his hands had become humongous. She used to amuse herself with thoughts that he needed a hand just as big to hold.

Of course, hers were dainty in comparison even though they carried weight far heavier than most.

Yet despite how much he dwarfed her, they still fit perfectly together.

He swallowed again, before croaking, "They're still in the Master's office, right?"

She nodded into his arm.

He steadied, leaning away to address her directly. "Let's take care of them."

Indeed, those journals were still in their same positions on the Master's large mahogany desk, almost perfectly stacked out of neglect.

Terra opened one of the books on the top, and only glanced through it before snapping it back closed.

Whether what little he read disturbed him or not, she couldn't tell.

"Do you still need them?" he asked.

That was probably the most cynical question he had ever asked her. "No."

"Good."

On the opposite end of the Master's office was the fireplace, cleaned of soot. Terra didn't need to mention it when they both thought of the same thing.

If a fire was built out of curses, would it still be considered a hearth?

It cackled and spit when the hard leather hit, and it would take a couple of burns to melt all of the clumps but the point of this ritual was to throw their shackles overboard and watch them combust. Every journal aflamed burned more knots from her shoulders.

She had a fleeting desire to touch the fire herself, and see if it could burn away the nightmares, too.

"I feel so much better," he said, on his knees. "You?"

For her, the warmth lasted for only a few moments. "I'd still have to go back to my room, and I don't…" She scoffed. "I don't even know what to say about that."

"You should sleep here."

In between the fireplace and the rest of the office was a rug on the floor and a long, supple couch surrounded by coffee tables and footrests.

She hummed. "That would place me far away from you guys."

"I could stay with you," he offered and realized it might have been an embarrassing thing to say.

"Terra-"

"You know what, Aqua? I have to be honest. I really want to be with you for the night." He rolled his lips and held his breath for her response, but didn't let her say anything more. "Maybe I shouldn't even ask but I don't understand the point of not saying anything - I just needed to get that off my chest."

"Terra," she said more sternly (but with a smirk) to warn him against interrupting her. "I want you to stay with me, but…"

Her eyes wandered the office. The fire shone a bright light against the furniture but as much as it was healing, it left heavy, glaring shadows. She had to walk to the entrance and turn the rest of the lights on. "I don't want you to be bothered by the lights."

"I won't be."

" _And_ there's just stuff I have to do now before I can even relax."

"Then do them." He shrugged, a warm smile welcoming her home. "Do what you have to do, I don't care."

She shook her head. "I don't like needing anything. I needed and needed and _needed_ so much for so long and nothing happened, and now it feels like I'm losing a game I don't want to play."

"But if you're taking care of yourself," he came closer to her, his arms crossed, "isn't that more like winning?"

She was going to say that he didn't understand what she was going through, when the straightening of his mouth stopped her. Something in his mind hung on to him, and it hurt him, and he was about to free himself and let it go.

"What if I told you," he said, "that I needed you? Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Nerves trickled up his arms. "It's harder to sleep without you."

She fiddled with her fingers. "I feel the same way."

He cleared his throat, putting on a brave face to stop himself from chuckling. "Then please spare me from another awful night."

Those were words that she could have said but pride was a sensitive, whiny thing.

She shut the door in front of her, and checked to make sure it was locked twice. With that secured, she murmured her Reflect spell to cover the entire doorway.

"Ah," he tisked. "Can I play your game, too?"

Aqua stammered a laugh. "The windows, please."

"Say no more."

He traveled opposite from the door, and took extra care that his Reflect spell stretched beyond the windowsill. In the meantime, she worked on putting a barrier over the fireplace, before heading towards the biggest piece of furniture in the room.

"The wardrobe, too?" he asked.

Aqua wasn't the type to feel particularly shy, but in this moment, she second-guessed herself.

"Sorry," he said, briskly opening it to fetch a black rag and then giving her the cue to help herself.

"What is that for?"

He wrapped it around his eyes, tying a knot that scrunched his hair. It was thick enough to block the light pounding from all around him, and he squeezed her hand with his to remind her that he chose to stay with her. "You're doing me a favor, so it's the least I can do. Now we're even."

His fingers played with hers, and if they had feelings, then they were smiling.

"Am I going to have to keep you from knocking into things?"

"Maybe," he drawled like a child. "I'm used to this, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I spent quite a long time looking at nothing but darkness," he softly said, his voice getting distant. "I don't really need to see. I don't really need to touch you either to... feel your presence near me. I can tell where the furniture is if I'm close enough. It's really familiar."

A cold nausea swept over her.

If this was how it was for him all this time… Was it the same that fateful night in the Realm of Darkness when the monster attacked her?

What was it called again… the Guardian? Terra just couldn't see that it was her he was ruining, or was it something else…?

"Aqua?"

True, he didn't need to see her to understand that something was bothering her. His head leaned over to listen to for a cue, and when he didn't get any he lifted the rag to find her with one eye.

She stood still long enough that her hand went limp in his.

"I hate this," she said.

He didn't understand what she meant, and as though she had transferred pain into him, he started to slip his fingers away. She held them tighter as reassurance.

"Is it just me," she breathed, "or was it easier for us to be ourselves before the Mark of Mastery? Tell me I'm not misremembering how we used to be, I just hate the way it's been so hard to talk about anything."

"Y-yeah. I know what you mean."

"I want us to go back. I want to tell you things I wouldn't say to anyone else. I don't want us to have to hide anything."

He nodded sadly. "I want the same."

"Then let's start over."

"Aqua," he chuckled. "I have too many special memories to start anew, but…" He tugged at her, leading her to the couch where he leaned against the backrest and brought his ankles to one of the embroidered footrests, accommodating his body until he found peace.

All of the paper succumbed to the flames and left a void where something could replace it and keep the hearth going, but that was the point. They were not made of wood; they were stronger than that, and they should be able to withstand what hellfire rained on them.

She followed, tucking his hand against her chest as she settled on the couch and laid her head on his lap, which prompted him to lift one thigh higher to support her neck. He began tracing circles in her hair and rubbing his thumb on her forehead.

In her position, she watched him pull the rag back down to cover his eyes.

"Then let's start with," she whispered, "what you saw when you met with Naminé. Where is Stormfall?"

He sighed, his body slackening despite the nature of the question. He let go of her hand to bring it around her waist and held her closer, as though she was too close to the edge.

"There was a long, white hallway with many doors…"

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may know that I have a [Tumblr](https://mimiplaysgames.tumblr.com/) but I just made a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mimiplaysgames1) too! Come say hi!


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